Injustice
by Simple.White.Lie
Summary: In the final hours, her thoughts reflected on the firsts.. And why she kept fighting. Short piece, may add Luke's POV at a later date. Warning: Character death


A super short shot that I thought of in the Shower, wrote in 30 minutes and posted for your enjoyment. :D

Disclaimer: George Lucas' property, I take no credit, only Reviews..

They had tried for months, for years to have a child. And month after month the red dots had glared at her as angry as a Sith blade. In the beginning she hadn't wanted children. She had just wanted him. Her fear of her stunted and tumultuous childhood terrifying her of motherhood. Her personality was not one to be swayed, but as the days passed and she saw him with his niece and nephews, with the younglings at the temple, her need to give Luke a child of his own grew stronger than her fear of motherhood. And so one night, after throwing out the tabs that prevented such a thing, she seduced him; an unnecessary act with her husband, and told him later of her intentions. His face remained passive, accepting of her decision. But their bond was too closer, she could feel his jubilation through the force, causing her own expectation to grow.

Much to her frustration, the angry redness appeared, month after month. He told her not to be defeated, that they would try harder, but as she grew older, sicker, the disease that infected her became a beast fighting its host daily, her resolve grew soft and complacent. Her tentative dreams faded. She would smile at him gently as his expectant eyes shimmered every few days, his face shining with hopefulness and the naivety of the once young and green adolescent, and she would shake her head, her eyes cast down in shame.

But of course, he wouldn't allow her to wallow. He wouldn't allow her to be mourning something that was his dream. He would pull her chin up to look at his handsome face and he would smile at her, tell her that it was "Ok", they could keep trying. She indulged him, but she had given up hope. The disease had ravaged her body too much, it was too late. Until something curious happened. She had been late. A few days, a few weeks, until one month had passed and she could no longer ignore what was happening. Either the disease had finally taken her last hope, or her last hope had become realty. The news of the latter made her jump for joy in a manner so out of character the healers thought her mad.

She had raced to share her news, only to find Luke off planet. Frustration bled through their bond and he nearly caused himself injury trying to race back to her, once more damaging his prosthetic hand. After a day in the infirmary he awoke to her triumphant glee as she whispered her news in his ear.

Their son was a blessing from the Force. Her pride over his accomplishments, his spirit, his intelligence. Luke was vehement that Ben was more like her, where she argued that he was more passive and serene like his father. What they did agree upon was their love and pride of him as he grew and matured into a young warrior, tempered by his strength with the Force.

But the end had come, she smiled sadly at the fighter that felt as alien as the slimy dampness of the air outside the ship. She mused over how at the end, one always thinks of the beginning. Like a Nexu and its cub, or the feral Tusk Cats and their offspring she would protect Ben to her last breath, even if it meant sacrificing her last breath for him. He was in grave danger from a being that she would have never guessed, that she would have died protecting herself. Because that's what familes do. They protect.

"Mara." The Sith creature spat and she gazed at his yellow eyes, his striking face and gave a sad smile.

"I would call you Jacen, but you aren't Jacen anymore are you?" He shook his head and she sighed, reaching for her lightsaber. "I don't want to kill you. But you threaten what's mine. And so I have no choice."

He sneered, "You will try, _Aunt_ Mara... You will try, and fail." Her heart sang out for its mate, its lover. Crying for the injustice of what was to come. Either she would have to kill her beloved nephew, or he would kill his only Aunt and friend. Her heart broke for that which was to come. Luke and Ben would have to be so brave to carry on, without either of them, life would never be the same.

As their sabers crashed and cracked, the image of the innocent baby placed in her arms came to mind. Ben, all pink and crying from being taken from his warm cocoon of her womb. Her son was in danger. That was the reason she was there, that was her reason for fighting.

And as long as she was breathing, she was fighting.


End file.
